


I'm Begging You, Please

by vrepit_nah



Series: Bottom Lance Week 2020 [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Begging, Boss Keith (Voltron), Boss/Employee Relationship, Bottom Lance (Voltron), Crying Lance (Voltron), Dom Keith (Voltron), Dom/sub, Dry Humping, Gags, M/M, Office Sex, Overstimulation, Secretary Lance (Voltron), Sub Lance (Voltron), Top Keith (Voltron), slight exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:53:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25421959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vrepit_nah/pseuds/vrepit_nah
Summary: Day 1: Dry HumpingAnother day at the office does not turn out the way Lance expects. Keith needs stress-relief, Lance needs to get off.Luckily, Lance knows how to help them both.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: Bottom Lance Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1841374
Comments: 5
Kudos: 348





	I'm Begging You, Please

**Author's Note:**

> I read a hundred smuts and I still struggle to write them. Fuck it, I'm doing more anyways.

This doesn’t happen often. And, by god, Lance thinks it really, really should because he has never felt more hot, cold, perfect, and stressed at the same time.

It begins with Lance, as usual, getting horny. And when he gets horny, he doesn’t hesitate to rub one off. But ever since he gained Keith's attention—yes, Keith, _the_ Keith Shirogane, of Shirogane enterprises, heir to the huge sports and fitness company, Lance fell heads over heels in love with the broody, workaholic man.

And with such a nice, secluded office space on the top floor of the huge thirty story building, Lance thinks he's pretty lucky. He doesn’t wonder how he caught Keith's eyes. It involved a sick and vomiting assistant, an extremely capable Lance, and some burritos, but let's not get into that now.

Lance was stationed outside Keith's office. He is the secretary, after all. Keith's personal secretary. So, yeah benefits all round, am I right?

Except, this afternoon, Keith comes in late to work, practically storming in without so much as a hello—which Lance is used to. Sometimes Keith is so fixated on something, he blocks everything out, but he’s working to get better—and Lance guesses it’s because he’s rushing late for a meeting with some investors.

He breezes past Lance’s desk, the top two buttons of his perfectly pressed shirt undone and giving him a peek of that wonderful, pale chest. His hair is spilling loose from his high ponytail, and Lance literally stops breathing because Keith is a work of fucking art.

Hence, the situation in his pants now.

There's no way Lance could take care of it behind his desk. One, there is a security camera watching him—and even though he has a massive exhibitionism kink, it’s less exciting jerking off on his own rather than with a partner—and number two, he has a boyfriend. He doesn’t need to do this alone anymore when his man is barely twenty feet away from him, fuck no, he's gonna reap the rewards of his gorgeous boss boyfriend.

Lance gets up and adjusts his shirt over his pants, loosens his tie a bit, and knocks at Keith's door. An absent _'come in'_ makes him grin and swing the door open. Keith doesn’t bother looking up as he scrolls pages or accounts in his computer. The floor-to-ceiling windows bring in the fresh afternoon light and silhouettes Keith’s pretty face. At the back of his mind, he makes a note to shift the desk away for Keith’s future online meetings.

"I told you about the conference call yesterday Keith," Lance reminds, shutting the door behind him softly. He notices the stress lines on Keith’s forehead.

"Thanks, Lance."

"And I told you that taking Shiro up on his lunch offer wasn’t a good idea."

"Hey, my mother was there.” Keith’s tone is slightly bitter, eyes zoning out as he looks up. “Things are getting a little better, I suppose. She—she wants to move into the city, and I know I can’t stop her but being close to her still doesn’t feel… right.”

Lance hums. He feels glad Keith opens up to him about things that trouble him. Their relationship in the beginning was rocky and trying to get Keith to tell him the slightest of things felt like a struggle, but it was so worth it at the relief on Keith’s face when he finally speaks. “I hope you were okay.”

“Yeah, Shiro was there as a buffer so it wasn’t the worst thing to happen.” Keith sighs. “I wish you were there.”

“Well, someone forgot to sign my leave.”

Keith takes a moment to look up. "Sorry," he murmurs. "I forgot."

Lance finds himself behind Keith's chair, pressing his palms to the solid meat of Keith's shoulders. He leans down and kisses the top of Keith’s head lovingly. "I know you get busy, babe. Wanna talk it out?”

“No, I’m done talking for the day. I just need to clear my head before the meeting.”

“Well, I can think of one way you can do that.”

Keith's head turns up to face him, brows raised. A small uptick of his lips tells Lance he isn’t too pushy. Keith's moods can be volatile when he’s stressed. He leans back in his chair. "Do tell."

Lance bends down, lips pressed to Keith's ear, and he whispers, "see, I have this problem." he takes Keith's hand and guides it down to the apex of his thighs, where his hardness is pressing through his trousers. Keith exhales a laugh, thumb brushing across his crotch teasingly. A shiver wracks Lance’s body as he leans into the touch. “Come on, Keith,” Lance murmurs, thrusting into the touch as Keith presses down harder, the material of his smooth pants creating wonderful friction to his cock. “Fuck me properly.”

“I’ll fuck you when I want, you brat.” Keith hums, eyes fixed on the expressions Lance makes as Keith cups him, a long, thick finger trailing to where his ass should be, and it circles around through his pants. Lance groans, going to straddle Keith when a loud ringing interrupts them. They snap to the computer screen on his desk that’s ringing with a conference call, two people already on it and waiting.

Keith pulls away his hand and Lance whines. “I’m still hard.”

“I know,” Keith says as pulls his chair back. With one hand, he grabs the waistband of his pants and drags him forward. Lance’s eyes glint with excitement as he’s forced to his knees. He goes to unzip Keith’s pants when Keith tuts. Just like that, his body goes rigid and blood rushes to his cock.

Looking down at him with a stern expression, Keith’s fingers makes quick work of pulling Lance’s tie up, above his chin and a finger taps at his lips. “open,” Keith orders.

Lance’s lips part immediately. It’s not a conscious thought; his body always reacts like this when Keith gets dominant, and Lance fucking _hates_ it because while he wants to be a good sub, he wants to be a bigger brat. He wants to test Keith in every way possible and Keith loves to draw out his desperation. Most times, Keith wins.

He is tense and throbbing as Keith’s finger dips into his mouth, and he has to swallow back a moan as the finger presses on his tongue and brushes along his teeth.

The ringing is a dull echo in some corner of his memory.

Lance’s eyes are hooded as he swirls his tongue around that thick finger, and Keith looks pleased. He pulls out the finger and wipes it on the tie. “good boy. Now—” Keith adjusts the tie over Lance’s open jaw and his teeth clamp down on it. Then, something nudges at Lance’s thighs, a foot parting them and pressing between his legs. Lance groans as Keith’s knee rubs his crotch.

“if you want me to fuck you, make yourself come _once_.” Lance’s eyes grow wide. There’s a hot flash simmering in his stomach at the thought of rubbing himself under the desk while Keith fights to keep a straight face. Keith’s eyes are already dark with desire.

Lance puts a hand over himself when another sharp click of his tongue makes him freeze.

“No, baby,” Keith says as he affectionately brushes a thumb over Lance’s bottom lip. A wicked, cruel smile twists on his lips as he presses further into his crotch with his knee. “Hands behind your back.”

Lance obeys, flushing red with embarrassment because that means… he eyes Keith’s muscular leg, taut and thick between him. His knees have already begun stinging with pain but that’s taken a backseat in comparison to how hard he is. His cock leaking through his boxers, and probably through his pants, too.

Another push of the knee that feels so, _so_ delicious, spurs him into action. And just before Keith answers the call, he whispers, “and remember, don’t make a sound.”

Lance shivers at the tone. He is left in the cramped space, burning with mortification, but the twitch of his cock says otherwise.

“Good afternoon,” Keith’s voice floods the room as he addresses the meeting. A harsh shove at his clothed cock makes Lance bite back a loud sound, and then, slowly, Lance clamps the leg between his thighs. He nearly whimpers because this is _humiliating_ , but at the same time, he has never been harder in his life.

The material of their pants makes a soft, slick sound as he moves up the leg, and then down. His cock drags along, and Lance bites his tie hard at the rush of pleasure.

His face burns as he manages the short, stiff movements under the desk. His neck is craned down and he’s breathing loud, but then the thought of Keith fucking him later, nice and deep and fast has Lance moving again.

His hips jolt as he begins humping Keith’s leg, like a _dog_. First his movements are slow and testing, every drag feeling like his nerves are set on fire, but then when he gets a rhythm, leaning back and forward on his knees, Lance goes faster. His hands are obediently knotted behind his back and they grip each other with a ferocity because if one of them gets loose, he isn’t sure he can control what would happen after.

He’s humping hard now, all humiliation gone at the chase of his pleasure, mouth open wide to pant and drool soaking the cloth of the tie. And then at one thrust of his hips downwards, Keith’s leg is moving up at the same time, rolling around his crotch and Lance chokes, a whimper spilling into the open, desperate and needy.

And then it’s _quiet_.

Keith has stopped talking. The voices through the speaker are silent.

Lance’s eyes are wide with horror and he doesn’t dare look up.

_“What was that sound?”_

Lance doesn’t get that choice. With a harsh tug, Lance’s head is yanked up by the tie and he meets Keith’s face, furious, lips pressed into a scowl, and Lance averts his gaze. Again, there’s a rough pull and his face crashes into Keith’s thigh.

Keith looks up with the most passive expression and says, “I don’t know.” As the meeting resumes, he clicks a button and the sounds fade. Lance presumes it’s on mute.

Then, Keith looks down. His face has mellowed out, and with Lance’s cheek pressed against his firm thigh, Keith’s warm fingers brush through his hair with gentility. And Lance fucking _shudders_ , trembles, as he pants out harshly, each breath rattling through him.

”If you think I’m going to fuck you after this, you’re sorely mistaken,” Keith growls low, even as his face is pleasant, facing his computer screen, lips barely moving.

Lance’s eyes screw shut as Keith continues carding through his soft locks. His leg hasn’t budged, and his cock is _weeping_. Something wet drips down the inside of his leg, warm and slick and Lance winces every time he shifts. With how close his face is, drooling over his gag and wetting those expensive black slacks of his boyfriend, Lance can make out the hard tent of Keith’s pants, but he doesn’t dare move. Doesn’t dare make a sound. Just kneels there in a shivering, tense, aroused—god, so fucking aroused—state. He needs to come an hour ago. He practically begging with his eyes. Keith’s dark eyes meet his for a split second and the punishing glint in them makes Lance’s heart squeeze and hips twitch.

“Stay quiet,” Keith murmurs, “and don’t come.”

Lance can barely let out a desperate sound as Keith’s leg begins pumping up and down. A sharp tug of his hair, and Lance slowly humps the leg again, each roll of his hips sparking pleasure and pain throughout his body, eyes stinging at the thought of his impeding orgasm.

It feels like hours. It’s only half an hour.

Lance began crying quietly fifteen minutes back and hasn’t stopped since. He is oversensitive, throbbing painfully, he is lightheaded from being so _stiff_ , and Keith has not stopped moving his leg in that slow, grinding rhythm that makes Lance want to pull his hair out. His jaw is sore open for so long and every once in a while that Keith stuffs his fingers in, toying with his tongue as he speaks to his meeting with the most unaffected, casual tone has Lance groaning internally. He sucks on those fingers like they’re his lifeline.

His boyfriend is a fucking _sadist_.

He twitches, his _entire body twitches_ , as Keith’s leg suddenly stops. The wave of relief is momentary, a short breath of fresh air under that stuffy desk.

Then Keith’s foot trails up his spread thighs, from his knee, to his shaking inner thigh, up, higher, until the heel of his fancy polished back shoes presses down on his erection. _Hard_.

Lance’s vision whites out. With a gurgling, breathy moan, he spasms as he comes spilling hot and wet in his pants. He practically keens at the singing in his nerves.

For the second time, the room is rendered silent. Lance can’t be bothered to keep his exhausted eyes open.

Keith’s sigh is loud and echoes through him. “I’m disappointed in you, baby. You had only two rules and you broke both.”

A hand removes the tie from around his mouth. Lance slowly clenches it to get rid of the slight pain. Through his teary lashes, he looks up to find Keith’s hard gaze and it cracks something in him dangerously. It’s like his heart is breaking at the thought of disappointing Keith.

Keith cups his chin. “If I hadn’t finished my call, everyone would’ve heard you moaning like a whore. Is that what you wanted?” His grip tightens and Lance gasps. “Answer me.”

“N-no.”

“I don’t think that’s true, baby,” Keith says, “you should’ve seen the partners’ faces when you moaned the first time. You’d like it, too. Moaning as you hump my leg like a bitch in front of everyone. Crying out as I split you on my cock—” Lance moans, shaking his head, his face feels like it’s on fire. “You like it when people see how much of a slut you are. _My_ slut.” Keith rolls his chair back and tugs on his tie. Lance stumbles forward on stiff, locked knees and hits the ground. “Get up, baby, and strip.”

Lance feels a shred of hope. Shakily, he gets up, using Keith’s thighs as support, and his boyfriend has full view of the stain down the front of his pants. He pulls down his pants and boxers and then hit the ground with a wet, muffled sound that has Lance’s face flushing red. Keith turns him around and makes him sit on his lap, Keith’s chest to his back. He doesn’t seem to care about the sticky, white cum dripping down his thighs and onto his slacks, instead just hitches him higher on his lap.

Lance’s cock is hardening once more, and when he sits down, Keith’s large hands envelope his hips and presses him down on the hard length, teasing his hole. Lance groans breathlessly, head falling back. Black hair tickles his neck as his hips roll up in the air uselessly.

“Keith,” he breathes, grinding down again and gasping.

One of Keith’s hands goes under his shirt, above his smooth stomach and to his nipples, teases them with tight circles.

“You’re such a bad boy.” Keith whispers, lips brushing his ear. They travel down to his neck and kisses the exposed skin, nibbling and licking that has Lance’s hips thrusting again. Keith chuckles. “Imagine if someone entered that door right now.” The door is right across them, unlocked. “They find you sitting here, begging for my cock. Admit it, baby—” Lance’s eyes flutter shut as another deep grind between his cheeks has his back arching with a loud moan. “You love it.”

“Ye—yes,” Lance groans, face burning. His head is foggy, and every little thing Keith is doing to him is driving him crazier, wanting more, even though he just had an orgasm. Keith pinches his nipple and Lance chokes. “ _Keith!”_

Keith clicks his tongue. His fingers wrap around Lance’s cock and Lance buckles. His fingers gather the cum dripping from him and uses it to sloppily stroke, each time making a loud, squelching sound that echoes across the room.

“No, _no_ , gah—kei— _too much!_ Too much!” Lance shrieks, thrashing as Keith pumps him relentlessly. He’s burning from the inside, every stroke too much and yet so good, and his soft, sensitive cock is already working back up again under Keith’s attention. His thumb swirls around the slit and Lance’s body jolts. “Keith!” Lance sobs, tears breaking through and wetting his cheeks. His fingers tightly grip the arm rests as his body shudders and rolls. He doesn’t know if he wants to go into the touch or away from it because it’s _too soon._ “I can’t— _I can’t, Keith!”_

Keith doesn’t stop, licking a stripe up his neck. And when Lance is hard, and on the _edge_ , Keith whispers, “put your pants back on.”

Everything stops. Time freezes. Lance’s world _crashes_. “Wh—what?” Lance barely whispers, shocked into stillness.

“I said, put your pants back on. Go to work.”

“But I—”

Keith cuts him off, gripping the base of his cock to prevent him from cumming. Lance hisses as he turns to face Keith, heartbroken.

“You disobeyed me. That means punishment. Do you think you _deserve_ a reward?”

Lance pauses. Everything in his cries _yes, please fuck me_. But that tiny, obedient sub in his mind is ashamed and in control. Slowly, blinking away incoming tears, Lance shakes his head. His cock throbs in Keith’s grip, hands tightly holding the armrests, maybe the only thing keeping his sanity intact.

Keith releases his cock. A wave of need hits him and Lance trembles as he stands up. When he turns, he finds Keith staring at him intently.

So, Lance tugs on his stained pant, wincing at the wetness seeping down the leg, and quivers as he shuffles uncomfortably across the room, fists clenched. He’s waiting, going as slow as possible for Keith to stop him, but the closer he goes to the door, the more his hope dwindles.

His hand grips the handle harder than necessary as he tugs the door open. Was Keith going to leave him like this the whole day? Lance can’t even get up from his desk because of his pants. Each movement of his legs sends shocks down his spine, but just before he closes the door behind him, he pauses.

“Lance?” Comes Keith’s voice.

Lance’s eyes grow wide as he whips around eagerly. “Yes?”

Keith doesn’t give him any quarter. Firmly, he says, “you don’t get a second chance. If you can last the whole day without touching yourself, I’ll fuck you here like the good boy you are.”

Lance beams. He-he can do this.

He’s going to be the _best boy._


End file.
